Not Your Average Day
by DJ Winston
Summary: Tony is being held hostage; however, neither he nor the captor realizes that Tony has appendicitis. Can Ducky keep him going until the team can rescue him? Rated Mature due to VERY graphic medical descriptions.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One - Tony

Tony was moving slowly and slightly hunched over, as he walked toward his desk. Sitting down in his chair, he pressed his hands against his stomach. The pain had started at about 4 a.m. and it seemed to be getting worse, not better.

"You look like you're a hell," Ziva said.

"I look like hell," Tony corrected, "and thanks for the compliment."

"I heard you tied one on good last night," McGee laughed.

"Jeez," Tony murmured, "Is there a direct line from my social life to this bullpen?"

"No, there's a direct line to me," Gibbs replied coming up behind Tony and slapping him on the back of the head.

"Let's go!" Gibbs continued grabbing his coat, "Ray DiLito was spotted near a warehouse in the 700 block of Edgewood**."**

Ray DiLito had been on the run for 2 weeks now. He was arrested for killing his wife, but he had solidly maintained that they had the wrong man. Then, the day before his trial was to begin, DeLito escaped.

As the team pulled onto Edgewood Street, they surveyed the area. The warehouse was a three-story, red brick building, about 70,000 square feet. The building and empty parking lot were surrounded by a 6 foot high chain link fence complete with an foot of razor wire strung around the top. Railroad tracks ran behind the building and Highway 1 was just beyond them.

Tony winced and held his stomach. This was a huge building to search, and it was going to take a lot of footwork. Biting his lip, he gave himself a pep talk, "Gibbs was shot in Kuwait and still managed to carry a fellow marine to safety and get a few shots off at the enemy before he went down. You drank a hell of a lot last night, but you haven't been shot, so buck it up, Bellimbusto!"

Gibbs ordered Ziva and McGee to search the first floor. He and Tony headed upstairs.

There was a long hall with lots of rooms. As they headed down it, Gibbs checked the rooms on the left, Tony, those on the right. After each check, they verbally cleared each empty room.

"Clear…"

"Clear…"

"Clear…"

Tony and Gibbs were nearing the end of the hall. Tony entered his final room and checked the left side, but before he could turn to the right, he felt the muzzle of a gun pressed up against the back of his skull.

"Drop your gun," a voice quietly commanded. Tony bent over and set the gun on the floor.

Just then, Gibbs exited the room on the opposite side of the hall. "Clear," he shouted.

As Gibbs turned around, he was greeted to the sight of Tony standing in a doorway, unarmed, with a gun pointed at his head.

"Sorry Gibbs," Tony said trying to keep things light.

"You don't want to do this, Ray," Gibbs said, aiming his gun at DeLito.

"I didn't kill my wife and I'm not going down for it," DeLito answered.

"Well you're not going to buy any sympathy by killing an agent," Gibbs replied firmly, yet calmly.

"I'll take my chances," DeLito said as he pulled Tony back into the room and slammed the heavy metal door closed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tony glanced around the room. It was divided into two rooms by a glass partition --the kind of glass reinforced with wire security glass. The back room was empty except for a door to a small bathroom; there was only a sink and toilet, but Tony was thankful for that.

Ray took Tony's phone and turned his own off to preserve the battery. Then he pushed Tony into the back room.

Tony stumbled to the back corner and sat down on the floor. The morning had started off badly enough, and now the afternoon was looking worse.

It was only moments before Tony was doubled over moaning in pain. He pressed his hands against his abdomen. Beads of sweat began to gather on his upper lip and forehead.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ray questioned. He felt fairly confident that pretty boy, here, was putting on some kind of act.

"You gotta help me," Tony said through gritted teeth. He pulled his right knee up to his chest in a futile attempt to relieve the pain. "Something's really wrong here, Ray. Like Gibbs said, 'You don't want a dead agent on your hands…"

The ring of Tony's cell phone interrupted the conversation.

"I want the case reopened," Ray said, assuming it was NCIS, "That's what I want and I want you to find the real killer."

Gibbs wandered off from other agents so that he could concentrate. "We can do that Ray," he answered calmly, "Why don't we sit down and talk about it."

"I'm tired of talking. It's gotten me nowhere," Ray said, "But you're listening now, aren't you."

Gibbs had already started formulating a plan that he could relate to Ray to show they were serious. They needed to reexamine the evidence, the house…finger prints, trace…the gun used, the trajectory…

"Gibbs! I need help!" Tony yelled interrupting Ray and trying to get Gibbs' attention, "I need Ducky!"

"What's wrong with Tony?" Gibbs asked sternly, "Put him on the line."

With a nasty glare, Ray handed the phone to Tony.

"Please Gibbs, something's really wrong with my gut—and it has nothing to do with drinking last night. You gotta help me," Tony pleaded.

Gibbs could hear the fear in Tony's voice. "Hang on, son," he said.

Ray took back the phone. "Who's Ducky?" he asked Tony.

"We work with him. He's a doctor."

Ray could hear the panic in Tony's voice and decided it wouldn't hurt for this doctor to come in and check things out. After all, he didn't want a dead agent on his hands; he just wanted to make a point about his innocence.

"I'll let this Ducky person in to see Tony," he told Gibbs, "But no funny business. You hear me?"

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, "I hear you."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tony was curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and there were vomit stains down the front of his shirt. He sure isn't looking like his usual dapper self, Ducky thought as he approached the boy.

"Oh my, Anthony. You're not looking so good," Ducky said standing over Tony.

"Is it that obvious?" Tony whispered not even raising his head to look at Ducky.

"Well," Ducky replied kneeling down at Tony's side and opening his medical bag, "Let's see what we have here."

Upon examination, Ducky noted that Tony had a 102-degree fever and his blood pressure was low, yet his pulse was racing.

"Let me move you out of here," Ducky said helping Tony up and out of the small dark, windowless bathroom.

Ducky gently removed Tony's stained shirt and set it aside. Then he continued to examine him.

"Rebound tenderness in right lower abdomen – a strong sign for appendicitis. The appendix," Ducky lectured, as he palpated Tony's abdomen, "is an interesting organ."

"Did you know that it no longer serves a purpose?" Ducky continued, looking over at Ray, "The appendix is a vestigial structure, a shrunken remainder of a large and normal intestine of a remote ancestor. Darwin thought it was previously used for digesting leaves back when we were primates."

Finally, Ducky stood up and turned to Ray. "This boy needs to be in the hospital," he said.

Ray was conflicted. He didn't want to be responsible for the death of an agent. Hell, he wasn't even responsible for his wife's death. But now he found himself in an unintentional situation. If he surrendered, he feared would not be able to convince agents to search for his wife's real killer. If he stayed here and did nothing, he might be responsible for the death of an innocent man.

Ray turned to Ducky. "You treat him, doc," he said, "You're a doctor right?"

"Yes, I'm a doctor," Ducky answered, "But I'm not an emergency room physician. This man needs treatment—treatment that I don't have in this medical bag."

Ray leaned his chair back against the wall and closed his eyes for moment thinking.

"Then, tell them to get you the equipment you need," he finally answered, holding up the cell phone.

This was not what Ducky wanted to hear. Sure, he was a physician, yes, he'd treated patients with infections, but that was in a hospital and that was a long, long time ago.

"You gotta help me, Duck," Tony pleaded in a whispered tone, "I feel like I'm going to die."

Ducky looked down at Tony. He looked so helpless curled up on the floor, like a little boy, his eyes filled with pain and fear.

"I'll do my best, son," he said kneeling down and resting his hand reassuringly on Tony's shoulder. But in his heart, Ducky knew his best might not be enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ducky phoned Gibbs. "Ray wants me to treat Anthony—but this boy is critically ill, Jethro. "

"Just do what you can until we can get you out of there," Gibbs replied hoping the team could rescue them soon. Ducky gave Gibbs a list of all the things he needed. He also asked Gibbs to obtain some medical care plans. Ducky hoped that these could provide a little guidance with his assessment of Tony.

Thirty minutes later, Gibbs called to say the team had gathered the requested information and supplies.

Gibbs approached the door and left a box of supplies along with clean towels, and a stack of blankets. Ray ordered Ducky to open the door and pull in the provisions.

"No funny business," he said firmly, pushing Ducky toward the door, his gun loaded and ready. Ducky opened the door. He picked up the supplies and carried them to the back room. Then he returned for the towels and blankets. As he picked them up, he glanced over at Gibbs. "Help us," he mouthed. Gibbs nodded.

Ducky spread a few blankets on the floor to form a bed for Tony; he knew that the cold hard floor couldn't be comfortable. After that, he rolled Tony onto the blankets and wrapped another one around him to help keep him warm.

Next, Ducky started going through the box of supplies. He carefully examined each instrument and read the accompanying directions for its use. The medical team had included a checklist of supplies, symptoms, and detailed information on how to treat each symptom.

"Let's get started with antibiotics," Ducky said plucking the IV kit from the box.

"How about pain meds. Let's get started with pain meds," Tony countered.

"All in good time, dear Anthony, all in good time." Ducky answered.

Ducky started an IV. He hooked up the antibiotics, fluids, and then piggybacked a small amount of morphine on it. "That should start working quickly," he said to Tony. Tony nodded, but did not open his eyes.

Tony still had a fever, chills, and nausea, causing Ducky to surmise that something—most like his appendix--was infected. There was no way it could be removed under these conditions even though that would have been the ideal plan. After reviewing the care plans, Ducky made the decision to insert a drain. If he could drain the pus and infectious material out of Tony's abdomen maybe that, in collaboration with the antibiotics, could prolong the time that Tony could survive before getting to a hospital.

Ducky paged through the literature. There was a whole section on how to insert a drain. To drain infectious material, it said to use the 15 mm sterilized corrugated red tube. Ducky began laying out the things he needed on a towel next to him.

Ray watched intently. "What are you going to do with all that?" he asked.

"I'm going to insert a drain," Ducky said, "But I don't know if that's going to help or not. You're putting this boy at grave risk."

"Do what you have to do," Tony said, his smile a product of a morphine-induced haze.

Ducky palpated Tony's abdomen again to determine the exact placement of the drain. He drew an "X" in marker at the point of insertion. Donning sterile gloves, he swabbed Betadine on the area to disinfect it. Then, he drew up some lidocaine and began numbing the area around the "X."

"Now for the hard part," Ducky thought. It had been years since he'd held a scalpel over a person with a heartbeat. Grasping the scalpel, he took a deep breath, and then made a small incision in Tony's skin.

Ray winced and turned his head. How the hell had he gotten himself into this situation? His original plan had seemed so simple—hold the agent hostage, treat him well, and when his wife's case was reopened, surrender peacefully knowing that his jail time for an uneventful kidnapping would be a lot less than jail time for first degree murder.

"Don't be shy with the knife," Tony said smiling, his eyes still closed. "Women love guys with scars!"

"That's the morphine talking," Ducky mused, "You're too vain to want a big scar."

Following the instructions provided by the medical team, he used a hemostat to tunnel down into the abdominal wall. Ducky wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve. Then, trying to steady his hand, he continued to burrow downward toward the infection.

Tony suddenly jerked away, "Ducky! That hurts!" he yelped raising his knee up to his chest in an attempt to shield himself.

"Anthony, hold still!" Ducky shouted sternly.

Startled, Tony stopped moving; Ducky had never yelled at him before. He took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and did his best to stay still.

Ray, pale and sweating, walked to the far end of the room and grasped the back of a chair, trying to steady himself.

Ducky continued with the procedure by threading the corrugated tubing into the wound using the hemostat. Then, he hooked it up to a small wound drainage pump.

When Ducky turned on the pump, it immediately started slowly removing debris from the infected area. Confident that the drain was working properly, Ducky finished the procedure by suturing the drain tubing to Tony's skin. Finally, he tied the ends of the suture around the drain with a surgeon's knot, taped the drain to the skin, and reattached it to the sterile bottle.

"That's all I can do right now," he said looking across the room at Ray.

Over the next two hours, Ducky sat quietly and monitored Tony, who was now sleeping soundly. His fever came down a degree, and the nausea had subsided; however, Ducky knew that this was only a temporary fix.

Ducky could hardly contain his loathing. "This might work for a while," he said to Ray, "But long-term, it doesn't solve a damn thing."


	5. Chapter 5

The Final Chapter

After an initial rally, Tony, started to deteriorate. Ducky kept the antibiotics and the morphine flowing, but the infection was not responding well. His fever was had gone up again, and the morphine wasn't relieving the pain.

Tony was writhing on the floor. "Just kill me," he suddenly shouted at Ray, "I'd rather die quickly than go on like this."

"Anthony, Anthony my dear boy," Ducky said soothingly trying to comfort him.

"We got to get him out of here," Ducky told Ray, "Keep me, but let them take Tony out."

Now, Ray was sweating too. He started pacing back and forth, unsure of what to do.

"At least let me get more fluids for him," Ducky pleaded.

Ray called Gibbs.

"Ducky says the kid needs more fluids," Ray explained.

"Let me talk to Ducky," Gibbs ordered.

"Jethro, Anthony is gravely ill. We need to get him to a hospital now," Ducky said.

"I will bring up more supplies," Gibbs said, "Come to the door alone. There will be instructions for you there."

"Thanks, Jethro," Ducky said.

Ten minutes later, Gibbs knocked on the door.

"May I pick up the supplies?" Ducky asked Ray.

"Yes, but as I told you before, no funny business," he said.

Ducky nodded and walked to the door while Ray stayed in the backroom, his gun pointed at Tony.

Ducky opened the door slowly. Gibbs was outside with a box of supplies. Just beyond him, McGee stood holding a sign.

It read:

Sting Grenade

Detonating at exactly 4:15

Wrap Tony in blankets

Protect yourself

Current time: 3:50

Ducky checked his watch and then looked over at Gibbs.

"Thank you," he said, subtly nodding to let Gibbs know that he understood the directions and that their times were synchronized.

"I said no funny business," Ray yelled to Ducky, wondering what was taking so long.

Ducky quickly grabbed the supplies and another stack of blankets and headed back into the room, the metal door slamming closed behind him.

After hanging another bag of fluids, Ducky started wrapping Tony up in blankets.

"I need to keep him warm," he told Ray, "With that fever, he's likely to get the chilled and could go into shock."

Ray nodded, distractedly. He was still mulling over how he was going to get out of this mess.

"I'm wrapping you up to protect you," Ducky whispered to Tony, "Keep your head covered."

Tony nodded as Ducky pulled the blanket up over Tony's head and face.

At 4:10, Ducky started setting the stage to take refuge in the bathroom.

"I need to use the restroom," he said laughing gently, "Old bladders, you know how they can be."

"Go ahead," Ray said, motioning toward the bathroom with the gun.

Ducky patted Tony one last time, "I'll be right back," he said.

Ducky went into the bathroom and started to close the door.

"Leave the door open," Ray yelled.

"Honestly Ray, what am I going to do? There are no windows in here." Ducky began to close the door again.

"Fine, close it--" The words were barely out of Ray's mouth when a sting grenade shattered the window. At that exact moment, the team set off an explosive to blow open the metal door. They were already in the room, guns drawn, before Ray knew what was happening.

Two hundred tiny, rubber balls sprayed out hitting Ray at bullet velocity stopping him momentarily. Gibbs used that opportunity to rush Ray, grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing him to the ground. In a flash, his hands were cuffed behind his back.

A few moments later, Ducky emerged from the bathroom unscathed.

"We need an ambulance now!" Gibbs shouted out the window. He could see the paramedics that had been on standby, start rushing toward the building.

Gibbs knelt down and unwrapped Tony's head.

"You okay," he asked hesitantly.

"Thanks Gibbs, Tony said weakly nodding his head.

"Maybe next time, you could plan something a little less extreme," Gibbs replied. For a second, Tony thought he could see the corners of Gibbs' mouth curl up into a slight smile.

Then he watched as Gibbs stood up and made room for the paramedics.


End file.
